I Hate My Job
by Keltic 'Arrancar' Shadow-Star
Summary: Prequel to "The Kid and the Rattlesnake". He hated his job, accent on hate. On call every hour of every day for a psychopathic Mayor was not his opinion of fun. At all. But what's an outlaw to do, while waiting for his life to get it's shit in order. Slight JakeXOC. Human Characters.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

Glass was everywhere, on the floor, in the walls; a few of them had even made their way into Jakes hands. The outlaw grit his teeth together as he picked out an especially large piece that – if it had been only an inch to the right – would have definitely sliced off a finger. Blood beaded around the wound but it still closed swiftly, leaving only a scar among the many that were there. Just another failure. Jake sighed, watching as wound after wound healed in front of his eyes while he sat in silence. The males' hellfire eyes glanced up at his desk, noticing how most things had been flung around the room when the explosion had happened, but there was only one thing that hadn't been knocked over. Jake reached out and grabbed the small picture frame in this already healed hand, a newspaper clipping barely fit within the confines, one of the first that had ever gotten a picture of Billy. It was dated two years after they had parted ways, about the same time when the female had become a hard-hitting criminal and had taken down a large portion of Sig Harrison's company in Mexico before she was then spotted three months later in China. A long sigh escaped from Jakes throat, rubbing his worn eyes with his thumb and forefinger as he looked over the trashed lab. He would have a lot of cleaning to do before he could try again.

A knock sounded at the wooden door at Jake's back, the man noticing that it too had shards of glass embedded within its exterior. Grumbling in annoyance as he stood, he didn't bother to wrap his wrists to hide the newly formed rattlesnake scales, Jake already knew who was on the other side of the door. The stench of alcohol hit Jake's senses like a fist to the face, and he couldn't help but wince as he pulled the door open. There stood Bill and his gang; Chorizo, Stump and Kinski wisely kept their distance and their eyes down; their leader however was practically leaning against the wood of the old house, cigar between his lips where smoke escaped.

"What do ya want Bill?" Jake growled, he didn't like Bill; he hadn't from the moment he had laid eyes on the man. The Australian was a straight up brute, using his size to get what he wanted. Today he and his crew were dressed in their usual dirt covered jeans and muscle shirts, a small bit of dried blood on a corner of the fabric made Jake wonder just which poor soul had gotten beaten today. Bill didn't move from his spot, but his brown eyes caught the glint of the broken glass that was scattered around the ground in back of the other man.

"What 'appened 'ere?" An eyebrow raised, eyes darting along the taller mans form looking for any wounds, but only spotting the newly formed rattlesnake scales that were practically invisible in the early morning light. "Did a bomb go off?"

"What do ya care?" Jake challenged, grabbing a cigarette from his shirt pocket along with a book of matches. Hellfire eyes gazed over the three men that still stood a good distance behind Bill, Stump and Kinski finally comfortable enough to stop fidgeting, but Chorizo had began to once again for a different reason. "Ya quit smokin' Chorizo?"

"Yes sir," the young male practically whispered in embarrassment that he had been caught staring, "Fer mah girl sir. Says she don't wanna kiss no ash tray she does." Jake couldn't help the small smile that spread over his face.

"Propose to 'er yet?" The Rattlesnake secretly enjoyed the irritated look that crossed Bill's face and the slightly shocked look that crossed Chorizo's, the male surprised that Jake had even listened to him once telling Bill that he was planning on marrying Delilah as Bill hadn't even listened.

"Not yet sir,"

"Going back to business," Bill interrupted, making Jake chuckle as the outlaw lit his cigarette, his muscles relaxing from the previous stress while Bill's tightened in frustration. "The Mayor wanted me to tell ya, there's a new guy in town,"

"So I got to take care of 'im?" Jake asked, talking with the cigarette still between his lips while Bill was twirling his cigar between his fingers.

"Yeah,"

"Is that all the old man wants?" The outlaw questioned, turning to grab the necessary equipment that he would need for the next few days that he would be spending in Dirt.

"No," Bill whispered, though Jake heard the quiet 'unfortunately' that followed afterward. "The guys name is Amos, he keeps talking about this accident that happened years ago involving the McCarty family massacre." Bill didn't notice Jake pause, how the mans eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened as he continued. "Boss want's 'im taken care of before the locals start askin' questions." Jake turned around, forgetting the shards of glass that were scattered along the ground as he grabbed his hat from his desk and walked out the house. Bill flinching as he quickly ducked away when Jake slammed the door behind him.

"I'm in."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

One of the many things about the Mayor that annoyed Jake was the fact that he never knew when to cut things short, especially when he was talking. The outlaw had lost count of how long he had sat in the Mayors office; listening to him continue on and on while getting nowhere as he just seemed to say the same things in different ways. The outlaw had drowned out just enough of the old man to know when to nod and when to say 'of course' but ignore everything else. Jake sighed, looking out the window to the Mayor's office and noticing that the sun had reached high noon, and he suppressed a groan when he remembered that he arrived just after sunup.

"So where's 'e at?" Jake asked without missing a beat to the Mayors words, the man going on about where most miscreants go. So he was at the saloon. Yeah. He was definitely at the saloon. When John went silent Jake took that as the cue to leave, grabbing his saddlebag and Gatling gun from the back of his chair as he went.

"Oh, and Jacob." The growl that was sent the Mayors way was ignored and Jake didn't bother to turn back, "Make it, public." The outlaws' eyes widened, he had his own personal agenda up until this point. Some torture, an attempt to see why Amos knew about the massacre, and then inject some rattlesnake venom into his system and watch him wither in pain until he finally died. Something simple. Now he needed to make it a scene, make the people hate him even further than they already did. Growling in acknowledgement, Jake left the Mayors office through the back exit so that no one would see him as he attempted to cool his ignited fury. Jake paused on the stairs to the ground floor, gripping the railing tightly enough that the wood began to splinter and crack.

Jake was already frustrated because it was the start of rattlesnake mating season, and his mate had last been seen clear across the world. So he was antsy, easily pissed off and his rattlesnake instincts weren't helping in the matter. Reaching into his saddlebag Jake drew out one of the many vials of rattlesnake venom that he had stored in case of emergencies, all it would take was one of the full doses into his bloodstream and there would be his small bit of relief from the temptation that was mating season. No fazing into his rattlesnake hybrid form and no bloody mess from the injuries that he caused to himself. But now instead of retreating in his lab for a week to get through the season without much issue, he would spend the evening shooting someone in front of an entire town and suffer through the effects while still in said town. And unless he got the venom into his system sometime before the sun would set, given that he would not become badly wounded in the surefire confrontation, the bloody mess would be included.

Oh did Jake hate his job.

Anger once again under control Jake continued his way down the stairs, ignoring the look that Bill was giving him as he adjusted his hat. "Want some back up mate?" Bill's question somewhat surprised the outlaw, a brow raised but Jake shook his head no, sending Bill the message that he wouldn't need his help, nor did he want it. Jake's hand's twitched in mild anticipation, as he made his way over to the main road, keeping to the shadows just enough for people not to notice him before he reached the saloon. Reaching into his pocket, he grabbed a cigarette, lighting it swiftly before he entered the saloon unseen. Jake had to admit that being a hybrid, something stuck between a human and a rattlesnake, had its perks. Like being able to move about the town and into buildings without anyone noticing. Sure having the strength of a thousand men as well as accelerated healing were nice, but being able to move around the town without anyone screaming in fear was, in Jakes opinion, wonderful.

Easily slipping into the darkest corner of the saloon, Jake looked over the arsenal of men that were currently drinking, gambling and drunkenly yelling over the piano that was being played in the corner. Since when did they have a piano? No, Jake shook his head of the thought, putting it in the back of his mind until later. His hellfire eyes wandered the saloon, pausing when they met with the bartenders, Buford. The only man who was willing to talk to him in town. The older man gave a small smile, running a hand through his greying hair and raising an eyebrow as though in question.

Jake shrugged, taking it as the question of did he want another haircut. He didn't think he needed one, but now that he noticed it his hair had gotten quite long, a good few inches past his shoulders. Putting that also in the back of his mind Jake lipped the word 'Sheriff' to Buford, the bartender's eyes narrowed, darting over to the man who sat at one of the large circular tables dealing cards with the other men from around the town. Jake's eyes narrowed, he recognized the man immediately as one of the men that had battled Billy before Jake had even become a hybrid. More wrinkles were along his face and his hair was speckled with grey but otherwise he looked the same as he did ten years prior.

"So Sheriff," an older, white bearded man gained Jake's and Amos's attention, "What 'cha gonna do 'bout," the old man paused, the hybrid immediately knowing what he was going to say. "Rattlesnake Jake?" The Sheriff's brow rose in question as he leaned back against the wooden chair, folding his cards down onto the roughly cut tabletop.

"Rattlesnake?" The mans' voice held the clear question, but he pulled it off with a forced chuckle. "What do ya mean rattlesnake?"

"The devil himself," another man growled and Jake suppressed a wince. He knew why they called him the devil; he had killed so many men in his time since he had started working for the Mayor. Most of them were men who hid secrets almost as great as Jakes own, Smalls had kidnapped children from Dry Creek and came to Dirt to hide them, Davis had raped women in every town he had taken refuge in, and Warner was a sadist that captured men and tortured them in ways that made even Jake's skin crawl. The towns' people never knew the horrors that Jake spared them from, in a way he wanted them to know, and in another way he didn't.

"The grim-reaper, 'e never leaves town without taking a soul ta hell." Jake couldn't help the wince that time, and Buford had seen it. Only the bartender knew that the statement wasn't true, Jake had visited multiple times for supplies, a haircut, or just a quick drink and a friendly chat. It was only when the Mayor called him in that he ever took a life, and the person always had a good amount of dirt on them.

"But 'e is a nice lookin' man." Jake heard one of the women in the saloon whisper; he would have taken it as a complement if it weren't for the fact that they were willing to have sex with anything that had money. A few of the other girls chuckled, even a few men, but the others who had heard scowled.

"Why exactly is he called 'rattlesnake'?" The Sheriff asked loudly, obviously annoyed that his question had gone unanswered.

"He's stuck in between." Jake and the others listening turned to Buford, the outlaw keeping silent as he remembered telling the bartender those same words. "He looks completely human, until his instincts take over and the snake traits start showing. He's not quite human 'an not quite rattlesnake. 'Es the worst," Buford paused and looked directly at Jake, hellfire meeting the bartenders hazel, "and best of both species." Jake didn't remember telling him that. The bartender looked away quickly, making sure to not alert others to the outlaws' presence. "Ya don't wanna get on Jake's bad side, he may be an outlaw an' gun-for-hire, but if ya don't mess with 'im, 'e won't mess with you."

"That's an understatement." The man with the white beard spoke quietly, but it still brought a small smile to his lips. The town at least knew that, as long as they didn't raise a gun to his head he wouldn't do the same to them. Jake licked his slightly chapped lips, eyes still locked on the back of the new Sheriff's head. The man had settled back down in his chair and went back to playing his card game. A slight movement from Buford caught Jake's attention, as the bartender brought out a shot glass and a bottle of whiskey. Jake's favorite drink. He couldn't help but think that Buford was the best.

"But going back to your question Spoons," the Sheriff's voice brought Jakes mind back to his assignment, "I will just have to take him out of the picture." The outlaw almost chuckled; the man didn't even realize that the famous 'Grim Reaper of the West' was in the same room, so how could he possibly get a hit on him.

"How you gonna do that?" A younger guy asked, probably just a year or so younger than Jake. The Sheriff turned to him, a small smile spreading over his face that made Jake growl.

"I learned from an old rival of his," the Sheriff paused, taking a drink of cactus juice, "Jay Digger." Jake's fists shook with fury, his canines dripping with venom. "Jay almost took out Billy the Kid," a growl escaped Jake but it was masked when a gasp escaped everyone else.

"Did he really?" a woman asked, thankfully no one paying attention to the man who clenched his hands so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"Yeah, he would have succeeded if it wasn't for that no good, dirty little skanks boyfr-" The Sheriff was cut off when a hand gripped him by the neck and threw him out the saloon's swinging doors. His back skidded along the burning sand until he finally came to a forced stop on the opposite side of the street and saw who had thrown him. People scattered out of the saloon, screaming and wailing at the top of their lungs as Jake stepped out. Anger radiated off him in waves that could have been felt by everyone who got too close.

"Took you long enough to show up," the Sheriff chuckled as he got to his feet. He dusted his shirt off as Jake took a single step off of the creaking wood walkway onto the shimmering sand. "Was wondering if you were even in this part of the desert anymore." Jake caught the whisper and the smirk that spread over the Sheriff's face. The outlaw growled as he felt his nails lengthen into claws. It had been a while since anyone had gotten this type of reaction out of him, and the approaching mating season wasn't helping any.

"Tell me Amos," Jake's voice deepened to a throaty growl and his lips curled back to show off his longer than normal canines, "How is it ya survived all those years ago? I had thought that all of ya died." Jake felt the tell tail sign of skin turning into scales when the sensation of pinpricks rushed over the back of his hand and wrist. The Sheriff chuckled and started reaching for his gun.

"Five of us were able to leave, not including Jay after your little girlfriend decided to go after the two 'a you instead of us." Amos grinned as he heard Jake snarl, "but the others died from the venom running through their veins before they left the state. I was the only one who didn't get bit."

"Pity," Jake smirked, "Would 'a made my job a hell of a lot easier." Most people had finally ducked away into buildings, watching the two men through dusty windows, unable to hear them.

"If you would 'a just stayed dead mine would be too." Amos drew his weapon but a well-timed shot from Jake blasted it out of his hand.

"Oh no Sheriff," the outlaw grinned, tossing his Gatling gun aside, "I want to enjoy this." Jake could practically feel his eyes slit as he rushed forward and planted a well-aimed punch to the side of the Sheriff's face. The older man stumbled to the ground as Jake heard the satisfying crack that resounded in his ears and knowing full well that the Sheriff's nose was broken. Jake chuckled as he cracked the knuckles on his opposite hand, while casually walking over to the other mans fallen form. Amos was clearly dazed, but Jake knew very well just how much damage he could actually do to a human if he tried and it would be more than just a broken nose. More like a crushed eye socket or even a busted and broken jaw. The downed Sheriff was gripping his nose tightly in an attempt to stop the bleeding, but he still grinned lightly.

"Jay said ya were one tough mother fucker." Amos chuckled as he stood from the ground, attempting to leg sweep the outlaw to the ground but Jake avoided it easily.

"I try," Jake dodged a right hook to his knee, but never saw the uppercut coming. The punch hurt, the outlaw could feel the aftershocks of pain bolting down his spine from the whiplash and he was slightly dazed on top of it. No simple human could hit that hard. He stumbled back dazed, but was able to gather himself back together quickly. "Yur one sneaky bastard yourself," Jake growled as he caught another fist, this time aimed at his collarbone. "The hell kind 'a hybrid are you?"

"I ain't a hybrid," Amos grunted while dodging a punch meant for his throat. "Sig did me the kindness of amplifying my natural strength and stamina after the first confrontation with McCarty." Jake snickered and took a hit to his side, just below the ribs. The outlaw grunted and grit his teeth together from the force that could have easily broken bones. There would definitely be a bruise there later.

"But not yur speed?" The outlaw regretted his taunt not a moment later when he felt a dull and rust covered blade slice through his right arm. A pained shout escaped his lips and he managed to back away from Amos for long enough to assess the wound. It was bad. His bicep was cut clean through with blood pouring down his skin with each beat of his heart. And he could see bone. If it hadn't been for the adrenaline pulsing through his veins and the sudden animalistic snarl that escaped from his throat, Jake would have paled. Amos chuckled as he watched the wounded man, but he was impressed at the quickness of the outlaw in tearing off the ruined sleeve and using it to tie a tight bandage around the gash until he could stitch it back together. However Amos shuddered when Jake looked back with a hellfire gaze. The Sheriff brushed off his previous startled reaction quickly and smiled while twirling his old knife between his fingers, the outlaw's blood still dripping from the blade. Jake snarled, his mind beyond words as venom dripped from his fangs and his body crouched into a strike position. Amos didn't expect the roar that came from the man before him, or the claws that ripped through his jeans and skin leaving four long, throbbing and bleeding gashes in his leg rendering him unable to walk.

"You son of a bitch!" Amos shouted his body falling to the sand as he dropped his knife. Briefly Jake had the recognition that he would be too late to inject venom into his body to keep him from becoming to animalistic, but the thought left his mind as his instincts told him to attack. Amos was struggling, attempting to crawl away into a building for shelter and safety. He didn't get far. With a snarl the outlaw grabbed the Sheriff by his ankles and threw him back into the middle of the street, only then realizing that he had moved him within arms length of his forgotten gun. The pistol was in the lawmakers' hand in a second of the man coming to a skidding stop, and was pointed directly at the hybrid. Jake huffed in annoyance as Amos recovered slightly, the man somehow able to find the strength to stand while the outlaw finally started to feel the stinging of his own wound. "Go ta hell Jacob Ranger."

Jake's eyes narrowed, time seeming to slow around him as he heard the gunfire that was aimed for straight between his eyes. His instincts taking over as he gracefully dodged the bullets, sprinted forward to grab the Sheriff's wrist and sank his fangs through the mans shirt and the flesh on his opposite shoulder, injecting as much venom as he had into the others system. Jake held on tight at the Sheriff fought against him, but his eyes were on the form that had caught moving, sitting on the second floor balcony of the Mayors office. The man sat in his wheelchair, hands folded on his lap and a sadistic smile on his face as he watched the scene unfold. Jake snarled; the Sheriff's fight quickly becoming a losing one as he glared up at the Mayor. The bastard had planned this, planned for him to lose control, for his animal side to come out. Amos dropped to the ground dead, his eyes still wide and scared as the outlaw roared into the sky, blood dripping down his chin and his mind lost in crazed instinct.


End file.
